


Oh No, Not Again!

by Camelittle



Series: Comment Fics and Drabbles [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Canon Compliant, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/pseuds/Camelittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With horror, Arthur learns that Merlin's gone to the tavern with Gwaine.  He takes swift action to ensure that nothing untoward occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh No, Not Again!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitty_fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/gifts).



> Originally written for [this](http://camelot-land.livejournal.com/10826.html?thread=174922#t174922),  [kitty_fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/pseuds/kitty_fic)'s irresistible prompt for the [](http://camelot_land.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://camelot_land.livejournal.com/%22)**camelot_land** community

It was with a sinking feeling that he heard Gaius’s words. “He’s in the tavern, sire. Celebrating his birthday. With Sir Gwaine I believe?”   
  
Arthur thought he had better go and check that nothing untoward had happened, as was wont to occur whenever Merlin, Gwaine and taverns were mentioned in the same sentence. Besides which, if anyone was to be treating _his_ manservant to strong liquor on the occasion of his birthday, it should be him, Arthur, not _Gwaine_.   
  
Muttering curses about itinerant knights and intransigent servants, and mentally drafting an edict, no, a _proclamation_ , banning the two groups from mixing in taverns, or other public spaces, he donned his hunting leathers, which were the closest approximation that he had to inconspicuous clothing, and made his way to the Rising Sun.   
  
Where, unless he was very much mistaken, his worst fears were about to be realised.   
  
For his manservant’s face was abnormally flushed, and he was swaying alarmingly, with that manic grin of his plastered to his face. A predatory-looking barmaid was hovering near him. Arthur disliked her on sight. Another had made herself comfortable on Gwaine’s lap. Giggling noises could be heard.

Oh yes, thought Arthur, indignant and swelling with righteous anger, he would be well within his rights to grab his lazy, good-for-nothing manservant by the corner of his ridiculous scarf and drag him back to his quarters to sober up  
  
And so that’s what he did, disregarding the way that Merlin squawked and baulked at this entirely merciful treatment.   
  
“Arthuuuur!” Merlin protested. “It’s my birthday! Gwaine said it was time I got drunk and bedded a wench. Gwaine said, she’d let me kiss her on the lips, with tongues and everything! I was really looking forward to that! And Gwaine said, if I asked her nicely, she’d seduce me, and put her hand down my braies, and tug my—”  
  
They paused at the doors of Arthur’s chambers, Arthur's hand clamped over Merlin's mouth.   
  
“Gwaine said precisely too much!” growled Arthur through gritted teeth. “I’m probably doing the lucky girl a favour. I bet you don’t even know what the word ‘seduce’ means.” He released Merlin's mouth, not without trepidation.   
  
“I do, as well!” said Merlin, voice getting a bit lower. “I could show you if you like! I’m really good at it.” He stared insolently at Arthur, a tiny smile playing around his lips. “I could show you how well I can kiss with tongues. I’ve been practising.” He chuckled, unnecessarily lewdly, Arthur thought. “You do look handsome when you’re being all jealous and possessive, Arthur.”   
  
“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin,” said Arthur, swallowing, pressing his lips together and turning his head to avoid the clumsy kiss that Merlin tried, unsuccessfully, to plant on his mouth. “Jealous? It’s a figment of your fertile imagination.”   
  
“Please, Arthur,” said Merlin. He leaned forward, putting one hand on the wall, no doubt to steady himself, and moved his face so close that the tang of mead and leather filled Arthur's nostrils. “You’ve been a bit tense of late. Maybe I could relax you?”

In reply, Arthur tugged him into his chambers and closed the door. It wouldn't for Merlin to be seen wondering the corridors of Camelot in this state.   
  
Unfortunately, this development only seemed to encourage Merlin, who crowded Arthur up against the door.   
  
“Maybe it’s something else you’ll be wanting me to do for you,” he said. His pupils seemed to swallow up his eyes, so that they were black and fathomless in the dim candlelight, and the plump of his lips was full and dark as he worried at them with his teeth. “With my mouth. I can make it good for you, Arthur. I have a very long tongue. You won’t regret it, I promise.”   
  
Long, eager fingers were fumbling at the drawstring of Arthur’s braes, and gusts of breath reached the sweat on Arthur’s neck, making him shiver, stoking something primitive and hot in the core of him, while Merlin spoke.   
  
Arthur felt his small clothes tightening, but, with admirable self-restraint, batted Merlin’s hands away.   
  
“You’re drunk, Merlin,” he said, firmly.   
  
“And? Go on Arthur, let me, please, I’ve always wanted to.” Those hands were back, but now they were hefting the length of the royal wedding package through his small-clothes, making Arthur's heart race and his breath quicken. “You’re so strong, Arthur. I love... I loved the way you got me up here. I... I know I... I complain about it but secretly it makes me want to touch you... feel you... feel... those powerful muscles. I love watching you train, watching you fight. Let me touch you, it wouldn't be any hardship, I have always longed to... I can make you feel so good, I swear... please, Arthur! I beg you...”   
  
Merlin’s mouth was ghosting over his cheekbone towards Arthur’s ears, making icy shivers pitter-patter up and down his spine like fingertips.   
  
This was intolerable. Arthur side-stepped out of Merlin’s arms, ignoring his disappointed pout.   
  
“I don’t take advantage of drunken servants,” he said, softly, stepping away to the relative safety of his desk and sitting behind it, willing down his erection.   
  
“Pity,” said Merlin. Sighing heavily, he sat on the chair opposite Arthur, elbows on the desk, cupping his chin in his hands. 


End file.
